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Memory Playthrough
Sim Hahahah<p>Someone demonstrates a formula to recount memories. The process is safe and virtually painless.</p>
Playlist
<p>Someone demonstrates a formula to recount memories. The process is safe and virtually painless.</p>
<p>A contemplative 10-minute experimental film that interweaves rhythmic visuals of pebbles, sand, shells, water, and moss along stone walls with an elemental soundtrack—including griot kora music—to explore the interplay between natural processes, human intervention, and cultural memory</p>
<p>That was when I thought I could hear you on petals, on fire, and on the edge of the bridge.</p>
<p>Tropical fruits and vegetables radiate on a blizzard-struck street corner in Brooklyn, NY. A visual oxymoron, tugging at the edge of an interconnected and collapsing global order.</p>
<p>A world tender and unhatched, Future chaos in repose, in slumber. Yggdrasil. Microcosmos. Batter in a bowl. A living wreath. Oleander hyacinth blow away dandelion, particles of an interplanetary lullaby.</p>
<p>vs (or "virtual spiral") deals with the dynamics between time and body in film. On digital video and non-reliable 16mm-film the processual of time and (film) body is visually transformed by spiraling camera movements. Here, contrary movements, distance and proximity or depth and surface enter into a dialogue with each other. The spiral runs like a thread through the film "vs". For creating the spiraling effect the artist Lydia Nsiah invented a camera tracking machine and shot in-studio, operating the movements of the camera live while recording. On screen we see Found Footage of data centers/ recordings of the physical bodies of our omnipresent data cloud. Artist Hui Ye composed the film’s immersive sound space interacting with the hypnotic and spiraling data body images.</p>
<p>"Constant" is a journey through the social and political histories of measurement. For most of recorded history, the human body was the measure of all things. “Constant” asks what led measurement to depart from the body and become a science unto itself. The film explores three shifts in the history of measurement standardization, from the land surveying that drove Early Modern European land privatization, to the French Revolution that drove the Metric Revolution, to the conceptual dematerialisation of measurement in the contemporary era of Big Science. Each chapter traces the relationship of measurement standardization to ideas of egalitarianism, agency, justice, and power. Cinematic and technical images that begin as products of measurement systems are stretched beyond their functions to describe the resistance of lived experience to symbolic abstractions.</p>
<p>About a girl and her Js. A meditation on the politics of style, collectivity, and self definition.</p>
<p>A Black trumpeter searches for truth in the world, losing his way until he confronts a reflection of himself, merging jazz-driven imagery and self-exploration</p>
<p>Burned, scratched, and painted film guides a reflection on healing from colonial trauma; the physical scars blend with damaged film frames</p>
<p>By reviewing personal archives and film work, Iván, a trans non-binary filmmaker, explores their journey of identity, self-discovery, and belonging in a reflexive, visually intimate short.</p>
<p>A ritual portrait of a Miami woman as she grieves her sister’s passing and prepares for new life in Clearwater, FL.</p>
<p>An archival-activist essay built from degraded video footage of MAPU Lautaro youth movement in 1986 Chile. Galaz deconstructs the original documentary—layering translation overlays, re-enactments, pink text annotations, and contemporary Instagram Live footage from the 2019 uprising—to weave cross-temporal dialogues about memory, resistance, and political legacy</p>
<p>At night, a stranger digs graves, buries the dead and watches over them. In the dark, he reveals the personal belongings of the deceased to us. These objects, separated from their owners, bear their scars and their experiences, while others melt until they become enigmatic.</p>
<p>SHE GATHER ME, titled after a line from Toni Morrison’s novel Beloved, is a poetic meditation on the resonance of different physical and mental landscapes of the African Diaspora. Through analog and digital film, video, and audio, this piece presents alternative ways of considering place and the search for a space of belonging & refuge.</p>
<p>A vertical‑format triptych documentary portrait of Syrian sculptor and media activist Zakaria Almoutlak, following his journey from Homs during the civil war, through imprisonment and survival, using news footage, reenactments, and three songs he helped co‑write to evoke fragmented memories of joy, trauma, and resilience</p>
<p>Seven residents of Abkhazia—a de facto republic on the Black Sea—share intertwined stories of loss and displacement from the 1992–93 war with Georgia. Through reimagined dreams, archival materials processed with AI, auto‑fictional narration, and atmospheric soundscapes, the film blurs boundaries between fact and memory, using the Black Sea as both utopian symbol and ominous presence</p>
<p>From a point of view/listening that is both animal and elemental, between the air, the ocean and the sand, relationships emerge between humans, birds and marine life. </p>
<p>Mainly shot in the peripheral areas of the ever-expanding Laem Chabang port in Chon Buri, Thailand, Notes from the Periphery interrogates the notion of territoriality, globalized networks, and ownership through fragmented relations of the affected sites and communities nearby, shipping containers that become a policing tool, and the life cycle of a barnacle.</p>
<p>An experimental audiovisual poem that overlays Google Maps, Wikipedia, and early 20th-century colonial landscape photography to reclaim the memory of Imwas—a Palestinian village razed in 1967 and replaced by “Canada Park.” Through ghostly narration and digital traversal, the film materializes the erasure of Palestinian history and reflects on colonial violence and displacement</p>
<p>What is liberation when so much has already been taken? Who has come for more? "Golden Jubilee", the third film in a series of works about memory, diaspora and decoloniality, takes as its starting point scenes of the filmmaker’s father navigating a virtual rendering of their ancestral home in Goa, India, created using the same technologies of surveillance that mining companies use to map locations for iron ore in the region. A tool for extraction and exploitation becomes a method for preservation. The father, sparked by a memory of an encounter as a child, inhabits the voice of a spirit known locally as Devchar, whose task is to protect the workers, farmers, and the once communal lands of Goa. Protection from what the filmmaker asks? Sanzgiri’s signature blend of 16mm sequences, 3D renders, direct animation, and desktop aesthetics are vividly employed in this lush, and ghostly look at questions of heritage, culture, and the remnants of history.</p>
<p>Lev Omelchenko returns to his childhood homeland after emigrating to the U.S. and follows his grandmother, Lida, on her 70th birthday as she tends to her homestead. The film captures the intimacy of her labor and their evolving familial relationship against the backdrop of rural Ukrainian life</p>
<p>A 2‑minute experimental short examining how the internet, movies, TV, daydreaming, and growing up shape and blur one’s sense of reality</p>
<p>A lyrical essay film exploring Divya’s schizophrenia and whether mental illness can echo ancestral trauma. Through dialogue with a jamun tree, archival Partition images, and shimmering interiors of a family home, the film visualizes memory, pain, and healing.</p>
<p>A contemplative 7‑minute experimental short, True Places turns fleeting glimpses of landscapes—sunlit horizons, aerial views, and impressionistic terrain—into a diaristic meditation on how memory shapes our perception of place, forming liminal spaces that hover between the physical and the emotional</p>
<p>"And there are other tidal effects, mysterious and intangible."-Rachel Carson, The Edge of the Sea (1955)<br /> Catamenial seizures, tidal correspondences, a sonic EEG, and a lullaby in partial translation. Highlighting the seams with the darts. An exploration of my epileptic rhythms and sensations through moving image practice.</p>
<p>A lyrical, non-hierarchical rehearsal uniting body, environment, and voice. In this short film, choreographed hand gestures, spoken phrases, and musical tones blend in English and Spanish, engaging tactile elements such as skin, bark, and fabric. It is a poetic gesture towards perceiving sound through the body and language through motion.</p>
<p>A poetic 16mm essay film capturing Baltimore’s summer of 2020, observing the eerie quiet of deserted streets and pools, radio discussions of a heated mayoral race, radio broadcasts, and Black Lives Matter protests. Through meditative visuals and sound, it reflects on COVID‑19 and police brutality without narration.</p>
<p>A meditative experimental film spiraling through space and time, questioning technology’s relationship to nature and envisioning alternative futures where human and non-human kin coexist in harmony</p>
<p>A silent, looping collage sampling footage from 30 years of sci‑fi films and TV that exoticize tropical landscapes—deploying palm‑tree aesthetics, idyllic beaches, and tokenized local figures—to critique the colonial, techno‑orientalist trope of the tropics as futuristic playgrounds devoid of actual tropical people</p>
<p>An experimental documentary essay that uses data-moshing analogue film to interrogate the fetishization of Josephine Baker’s body and image—from her 1926 performance The Madness of the Day in a banana skirt to contemporary celebrity references—raising complex questions about cultural appropriation, exoticism, and visual representation</p>
<p>Using a deteriorated nitrate print from the 1928 German silent Liebeshölle (released 1929 in the U.S. as Pawns of Passion), this five-minute experimental film follows a woman at a bustling masked party who finally meets a mysterious guest, enveloped in haunting atmosphere and visual decay</p>
<p>The screen is black, voices resonate, women’s, men’s voices, of all ages, seemingly American. The sound track of INFINITE DISTANCES is composed of found sounds, recorded on answer machines, to which the filmmaker has refrained from adding images. What we hear is already sufficiently telling: these snippets enable us to imagine both the person speaking and the intended recipient of the message, their relationship and respective states. Is the recipient really unavailable or is he or she waiting patiently beside the phone? Is the speaker sober and sound of mind? For want of images, the time period is even difficult to identify. Absent this information, all we can do is to focus our attention on everything a voice can express, beyond the words themselves – the thousand ways of saying “hi” or “call me back”. The film surveys an emotional spectrum, from degree zero (a computer voice reminding someone of a medical appointment) to the peak of intensity (the rage against a man who is not answering the phone), as well as functional or pointless, coded or sung messages. The delight procured by this concentrate of humanity culminates when emotions and intentions intermingle – desire tinged with reproach, an attack followed by a polite invitation. Whether speaking to Judy, Rob or Carrie, each caller in their solitude expresses a desire to keep in touch, which often goes further than the scope of their own shared relationship (several messages convey concerns for a third person). We can wager that these messages, interspersed with unanswered questions, will have a particular echo in a dark room that brings together individual existences.</p>
<p>An eleven‑minute explicit celebration of masturbation, filmed through intimate documentation of men—often invited via Grindr—in cherry’s apartment/studio, challenging shame and reclaiming erotic power.</p>
<p>Following a breakup with an older partner, filmmaker Isidore Bethel relocates to Chicago and uses dating apps to cast new lovers in his self-reflective cinematic project. The film navigates a series of intimate encounters, interwoven with phone calls from his mother and memories of past romance—blurring boundaries between documentary, autofiction, and candid confession</p>
<p>Visitors and residents of New Mexico's Tularosa Basin, site of the first detonation of an atomic bomb, contribute to the production of public memory as they offer reckonings and advice about making "the journey of the dead."</p>
<p>Erin and Travis Wilkerson take their three children on an ostensibly ordinary summer holiday—camping, mini-golf, swimming, baseball—across the American West. But beneath the surface, the landscapes are marked by nuclear missile silos, genocide, environmental degradation, and colonial violence. This apocalyptic family road trip blends archival mushroom-cloud footage, Sun Ra’s “Nuclear War,” and candid voiceover to weave a personal critique of America’s long-running obsession with destruction and war</p>
<p>An attempt to regain attachment following a period of heroin addiction, near-death experiences, and oxytocin deficiency. The camera shifts between moments of fragile devotion, searching for a higher power in threads of shared suffering. Oliver, is heaven only for the high?</p>
<p>In 1988, a mysterious man enters the US on a fake passport. Ronald Reagan tours a collapsing Soviet Union. A road trip through rural America ends in a terrorism arrest outside of New York City. What becomes of those lost to the currents of history? Do they leave some trace behind? Or do they simply disappear?</p>
<p>Filmed on location in Northwest Washington, Lake Forest Park follows a group of teenage outsiders coping with the violent death of a classmate—a tragedy shared primarily through a faint radio report. With minimal dialogue and richly textured visuals, the film becomes a meditative portrait of collective grief, alienation, and the quiet persistence of life amid loss</p>
<p>A rumination on ancestry, transformation and loss. Elemental forces and the universal web of interconnection. Dedicated to the memory of the filmmaker's grandmother Marilyn.</p>
<p>A fragmentary rumination on an aging father figure and his proximity to the gender‑reveal‑party fire that scorched the San Bernardino foothills in 2020—exploring themes of mortality, familial memory, ecological loss, and corporeal decline</p>
<p>A concise visual eulogy that meditates on makeshift memorials—crosses, ghost bikes, roadside tributes—honors a loved one lost to an accidental opioid overdose. Through fragmented 16mm impressions of personal objects and blurred faces, it evokes lingering presence and overdue grieving</p>
<p>“Stretching and blurring the boundaries of video essay, experimental film and home movie, traces of a 1950’s homemade melodrama by amateur filmmaker Joan Thurber Baldwin intermingle with a mournful homage to the author’s granmother and her vacated home. A powerful mélange of cinematic and domestic spaces, part and present.” – Kevin B Lee</p>
<p>This 11‑minute black‑and‑white short captures a deeply personal reunion: the director’s mother reconnects with her long-separated aunt Kamala, years after being sent away during Sri Lanka's civil war. A quiet, intimate reflection on memory, heritage, and solitude.</p>
<p>An intimate, epistolary exploration of grief and memory following the death of the director’s mother, presented through a rapid montage of childhood letters, clippings, and archival audio. The fleeting, cinematic presentation evokes the emotional rush of loss and remembrance</p>
<p>Former labourer Jean-René is now retired. He has lived in Mâcon, France, since emigrating from Réunion aged seventeen. For the first time, he breaks the silence and tells his daughter his story. His account reveals mysterious dreams and sorrow that are rooted in the wounds of French colonial history.</p>
<p>The filmmaker and a mannequin explore the world through its solar terms, invoking the spirit of Lin Hei’er—the leader of the Red Lanterns who resisted colonial invasions during the late Qing Dynasty in China—as a living embodiment of history, revolution, and personal memory</p>
<p>The little personal myths and structures we set up to aid the survival of the psyche in times of low harvest. Finding subtle points of reference in subject and camera movement, in the landscape, its details and the traditions of the season, I attempt to connect the outside with the embodied camera and the inward gesture of the brushmark.</p>
<p>Filmed on the former grounds of Black Mountain College, Looking Backward (2022) is a short elegy (ten minutes) exploring utopian legacies and “other impossible projects” through poetic and archival visual language</p>
<p>A ritualistic 3-minute Super 8mm film depicting a private Voudou ceremony for Maman Brigitte—a loa who bridges the living and the dead—interwoven with visceral bodily sounds (spitting, running, vomiting) and expansive landscapes. It delves into film’s capacity to materialize the hidden and spiritual</p>
<p>A mesmerizing 31-minute analogue‑based experimental film crafted from 35 mm and 120 mm negatives, using stereoscopic, lenticular, and toy-action cameras. It constructs a dreamlike realm of suspended time—looping through seasons, day and night, growth and decay, familiar and abstract landscapes, layered to evoke a perpetual present and multi-dimensional depth</p>
<p>"If From Every Tongue it Drips" is a film that uses the framework of quantum physics to explore the ways that personal relationships and political movements at once transcend and challenge time, space, identity and location.</p> <p>The film follows the lives of a couple living in Batticaloa, Sri Lanka, one of whom writes Rekhti, a form of 19th century, Urdu, queer poetry; the other, the camera operator. As their personal lives unfold on camera, the lines between rehearsal and reality, location and distance, self and other dissipate and reinforce one another. Simultaneously, through poet and camera operator’s daily lives, interconnections between British colonialism, Indian nationalism and the impact of both on contemporary poetry, dance and music in South Asia is revealed.</p>
<p>Instant Life (2022) is a layered experimental short comprising three shot-for-shot remakes of the 1981 compilation film Instant Life, itself a recreation of a lost 1941 precursor. Juxtaposing geological textures, brine shrimp, and crystalline growths with narrated riddles, it explores artificial life, cinematic reproduction, and the paradox of creation and decay—with no definitive answers provided</p>
<p>An imagined reflection from the year 2049: an exile returns to a post-collapse Los Angeles decades after environmental and social upheaval. Reconstructing his former apartment and envisioning the lives of those who lived there, he meditates on memory, place, and dreams</p>
<p>Secrets of experiencing and the wandering of mind from an initial landing place through haptic view of the lens.</p>
<p>KŌ is a non-narrated experimental ethnofiction short documenting the final era of Hawaii's sugarcane industry. Through immersive visuals and sound design, it stages the end of an agricultural epoch, capturing landscapes, textures, and echoes of a disappearing cultural and economic legacy</p>
<p>A farmer discovers a fallen meteorite in the high Chihuahua Desert. The Alien Earth and the Earth Alien commingle under the spell of a deadly nightshade.</p>
<p>“Deep Impact” explores our deep fatalistic tendencies to design our own catastrophic scenarios in order to enrich our monotonous lives through our simulations of collapse.</p>
<p>With human civilization facing ever-worsening climate calamities, the captains of industry set their sights on a new planet. Soon, a secret public-private partnership is selling tickets to Mars at a premium out of reach for the majority of the population, for whom the choice is either indentured servitude in the new offworld colony or perishing in the coming cataclysm. When the world’s governments decide to speed things up by declaring war on Earth and the rabble they’re leaving behind, the planet forges a strategic alliance with an unlikely partner: an underground luddite movement. Some will join the uprising, others will become fanatical defenders of entrenched power structures, while yet others will do everything in their power to continue living exactly the same way they always have. Its star-studded cast and astronomical production values—painstakingly purloined from some of the biggest blockbusters of the past three decades—make EARTH II the most expensive climate disaster epic to be produced for no money.</p>
<p>An 8‑minute silent 35 mm experimental short that serves as a visual meditation on “wanting to see a cat,” unfolding in hypnotic, enigmatic sequences.</p>
<p>Mysterious wartime naval films reveal early military psychological operations.</p>
<p>An elegiac, 6‑minute experimental essay reflecting on U.S. military occupation’s impact across three generations of women in the Philippines and the U.S. Interweaving archival wartime footage and personal family photographs, it explores inherited trauma, silence, and the enduring presence of hidden histories</p>
<p>A chilling, phantasmagoric 3-minute experimental short that interrogates the Trump Administration’s reactionary 1776 Project. It combines frantic, repetitive animations—depicting reinforcement, bunkering, and isolation—drawn from home improvement texts, with audio excerpts from the 1776 Commission’s report audiobook. The result is an unflinching exploration of right-wing historical propaganda</p>
<p>Thailand’s strategic position and political orientation made it the ideal ally for the United States during the Vietnam war. Through an astonishing mix of contemporary and archival images, All the Things You Leave Behind deploys precise criticism to analyse a little-known page of modern history, emblematic of contemporary power games and warfare.</p>
<p>“We revolt simply because, for many reasons, we can no longer breathe.” These words of Frantz Fanon conclude Harris’ sobering and chilling mash-up of frantic Chicago Police audio messages with frenetically animated Google Maps imagery surveying the city. The sound refers to the protests during 2020 that followed the murders of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor and Ahmaud Arbery; the image does not directly depict these events, instead evoking urban space as an ultra-controlled prison.</p>
<p>What are the sounds of Guantánamo Bay Detention Center? In 2015, poet Jordan Scott set out to record the ambient sounds of the prison as a means of bypassing its strict media censorship rules. Today, former detainee, Mansoor Adayfi, recalls how sound shaped his experiences there— both of torture and of hope. More than 20 years after men were first detained, Scott’s field recordings and Adayfi’s memories come together to create a visceral new landscape of this notoriously secret place.</p>
<p>As Benjamin had predicted, nothing brings the promise of happiness encoded at the birth of a technological form to light as effectively as the fall into obsolescence of its final stages of development</p>
<p>On Brooklyn’s redeveloped East River waterfront, Under the Paving Stones, the Beach (16 min) traces the human labor sustaining luxury life inside One Brooklyn Bridge Park. Interweaving daily rhythms of workers and residents, the film contrasts labor and leisure to reveal physical, psychological, and environmental tensions that underpin modern convenience</p>
<p>The clouds in Jacob van Ruisdael’s landscape paintings appear both massively imposing and ephemerally vaporous. Clouds loom over us today as a metaphor for a vast apparatus of power thirsty servers that can never be turned off. A man-made climate system with its own tidal movements. Data ‘packages’ break apart and reassemble briefly as images and text on our screens but they “live” within the vast northern data center archipelago where the climate cuts down on the cost of cooling the machines. Echoes of original images serve as the raw materials of this film, emerging from the cloud, processed by hand and returned to the cloud.</p>
<p>Pondering recent trips through the Suez Canal and to Onkalo, Finland (soon to be the world’s most secure nuclear waste site) a man consults an estate lawyer to discuss an eccentric plan for his mortal remains.</p>
<p>Incarcerated participants in a mental health experiment watch videos of sunset-soaked beaches, wildflowers, and forests on loop, prompting them to reflect on isolation and wilderness.</p>
<p>A tapestry of footage collected from surveillance cameras over the last four years, Self-Portrait moves from moment to moment around the world, beginning with the frozen storminess of winter, to the melt of spring, the lush heat of summer, and finally the decay and cooling of autumn: the dawn of winter.</p>
<p>A personal essay on bipolar disorder, created before I knew I had it.</p>
<p>A reflection upon the way we relate to one another as individuals, scratched into 16mm black leader.</p>
<p>This hybrid piece is a collage created assembling both analog and digital material. Several layers of 8mm films merge to create a camera-less self-portrait of the filmmaker. The first layer is an 8mm orphan film (found footage) from the 1970s of a woman dancing. The second layer is an 8mm found footage film that has been buried in earth for some months. While being covered in earth, the film emulsion has been eaten by the bacterias in the ground, plus some bacterias from yeast and sugar. This technique was originally used by the Schmelzdahin group in Germany. After several weeks in soil, the film gets extracted, rinsed, and scanned via a 4K digital scanner. The third layer is an 8mm home movie that has been first decayed in soil, using the aforementioned technique, then hand-painted with ink.</p>
<p>Squish! is a meditation on the self through lurid and liquid forms; filtered through both old and foreseeable technology informed by Thai animation history and contemporary culture, and a constant process of constructing and deforming new selves to simulate ‘movements’. By extrapolating and redefining the terms of ‘movement’, be it through psychological, physical or political understandings, the work interweaves the medium of animation with a state of depression.</p>
<p>Wear and Tear is an autobiographical poem and an honest reflection on a very weird year. Filmed with a thrift store Super 8 camera mid-pandemic on a family vacation during a moment of massive uncertainty, the beach serves as a refuge and a temporary escape from reality. Journal entries, email fragments, voicemails and other digital ephemera are stitched together into a somnambulistic narrative about losing touch, self doubt, and the toll of prolonged stress on our brains and bodies.</p>
<p>A woman struggles with day-to-day life in her apartment after witnessing the murder of a young boy by a police officer. The fear keeps her captive for a year. Regular visits from her community and virtual sessions with her therapist helps rebuilds her mental strength to be in the world again. She uses the 'green energy' of plants as her protection, guarding her door and the surrounding space. She finds comfort and a place to mimic resilience by caring for the plants. Community check-ins support her healing, adding to her investigation of grief. As the year passes she moves through the grief eventually leaving her apartment. Her return to the community comes as a witness in the trial of the young boy’s murderer. Elephant is a visual meditation on the physiology of grief. The film explores the body, space, and mental health of those witnessing/undergoing oppression, assault, trauma, and loss.</p>
<p>I have been fascinated by color my entire life and am equally fascinated by the lack of it. Or more specifically, living in a world of color but not the color that one with normal vision sees. Color without Color is about individuals who have complete achromatopsia (those born without color vision). It reveals their ideas about color and pioneers new ways of perceiving color in a color-normal world.</p>
<p>Rainer Kohlberger is a maximalist, ready to take things to the limit when it comes to visual, auditory, and ultimately also bodily experiences. What else can explain the reason why he’s chosen the sun as his dialogue partner? As children we squinted our eyes, gazed at the horizon, and let the sun come in; this gave us the most beautiful trips.<br /> The basic requirements were idleness and absolute devotion, turning off all thoughts, setting aside all other commitments. As the ideal and in fact only setting for each showing of his <strong>Answering the Sun</strong>, Kohlberger prefers the darkest possible cinema space, to be equipped with a large screen and the best possible sound system, because it is only there that his unsettling, mesmerizing conundrum can unfold to maximum effect.</p> <p>Kohlberger’s work speaks of seduction, an overstimulation and deception of the senses, monochrome-pumping color surfaces, powerful drones. A night-black sequence in front of a wall of sound is followed by a hallucinatory passage without sound, which finally turns into shimmering Op-Art geometry. Strong light signals create afterimages on the retina, while specific acoustic stimuli stimulate the ear to generate sounds on its own, and the entire body is affected, with an implicit loss of control. And in all the dizzying flickering, throbbing, and pulsating, a sun ball appears, largely bathed in vibrant colors.</p> <p>Just as we children of the sun were entertained and inspired by the uniqueness of our trips, every collective viewing of this film will remain individual in the eye of each beholder. Kohlberger takes this to extremes. Retinal afterimages and sound emissions from the ear can be measured, but in the darkness of the cinema, one can only guess at what the other members of the audience have experienced during this full hour of iridescent colors, shapes, and sound worlds. Can there be a more beautiful declaration of love for cinema, whose sun rises again and again?</p> <p><em>(Regina Schlagnitweit)</em> </p>